


Collide

by Espereth



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Community: asscreedkinkmeme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 18:16:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Espereth/pseuds/Espereth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malik watches Altaïr walk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collide

"I have the meeting point," Altaїr said, his growing anger showing in the tightness of his voice. "Just tell me your passphrase, and I will make contact with your informant. I can handle this - there is no need for you to leave your Bureau."

Malik repositioned the paperweights on the corners of his map and put away his inks and brushes, taking his time.

"I would agree with you, novice, if I simply needed my contact beaten senseless. But I do not. He may require intimidation, but Daoud has been useful to me for many months, and will remain so if he is treated with finesse. I will finish up here, and then we will go together."

With every careful movement of Malik's hand, Altaїr grew more frustrated, his expression darkening further. He paced the length of Malik's bureau, flicked his hidden blade in and out of its sheath, then returned to watch Malik tidying his workbench. Malik savoured the other man's awkwardness - Altaїr's thoughts were plain on his face. Should he offer to help? Tell Malik to stop dithering? Either way, it would bring up the unmentionable facts that weighed both men down as heavily as shackles. Altaїr had no choice but to wait in silence. It would do him good.

Finally, Malik looked up from his spotless workbench. "I am ready to leave," he said, but Altaїr was already turning to leave the bureau, his body tense with suppressed rage.

***

The two Assassins weaved through the crowded streets of a modest district of Jerusalem. Altaїr led the way. The sun glared down as the day approached noon. Malik had not bothered to ask where they were going; he knew he would receive only silence in reply.

They made excellent time. Altaїr stalked ahead, and to his irritation, Malik couldn't help but notice how the crowd made way for him. That never happened when Malik was on his own. Not any more. He suppressed the thought quickly, preferring not to think about how deeply the loss of his arm had wounded his pride, affected the way he carried himself. As a distraction, he watched Altaїr walk.

It had been unproductive to provoke him. But somehow, these days, Malik never could seem to resist doing so - and now he observed the fruits of his efforts.

Anger showed in every line of Altaїr's body, every movement of his head, every tense-and-flex of his left hand. It was obvious that he was struggling not to flick out his blade, conscious of Malik's presence behind him. Alongside a petty sense of satisfaction, disapproval burned inside Malik at that - most likely Altaїr had developed a habit of aimlessly releasing and retracting the blade when he was on his own. He knew could not do it now, for fear of another humiliating reprimand.

_Novice._

Observing him, inexorably, Malik's gaze was drawn to the lean, hard lines of Altaїr's body, which his robes seemed to do little to conceal. If anything, the drape of sturdy cotton only served to focus Malik's attention on the sinewy, sleek-muscled frame underneath. Malik felt his own robes brushing uncomfortably against his hardening cock. He knew that what he was doing was wrong, that this was no way for one man to look upon another - but he could not compel himself to do otherwise. He never could.

Altaїr turned down a narrow street, with a flash of dark amber eyes from beneath his hood, as he checked - unnecessarily - to see that Malik was close behind. Malik scowled and looked away, but once Altaїr's back was safely to him again, he could not resist indulging in another look. He tried to keep his eyes low, but from time to time they ranged over Altaїr's slim straight shoulders and the long slender lines of his back.

With his shoulders at that haughty angle, the proud cast of his head, it was no wonder the man started fights so easily. No wonder even his Brothers longed to give him a thrashing. He was too confident, too talented. And his demotion had only made him worse. It was as though he did not _know_ that he had failed, did not accept that...

That Solomon's Temple had been his fault.

And his _hips_ \- he moved them with such arrogant grace, it was indecent. Malik stared, his eyes drifting to Altaїr's narrow waist, and then, inevitably, to the firm shape of his backside.

He was more conspicuous than he knew, stalking through the crowd with his hood up. People turned to look at him as he walked.

Not quite the way Malik looked at him, though. He struggled to drop his gaze from Altaїr's body, to keep the other man in the periphery of his vision, tracing after his path without appearing to follow him. That was the way they had been taught. It did nothing to quell the unwanted desires that stirred him.

Lost in his thoughts, Malik did not notice his contact Daoud - a furtive-looking man in his middle years, dressed in scholar's robes - standing in a shadowed doorway until they were almost on him. Altaїr stopped suddenly, and Malik was too slow to avoid bumping straight into him.

He ran right up against Altaїr's back, and for an instant felt hard muscle against his chest, rough cotton against his cheek - and the terrifying thrill of his erection nudging flush between the cleft of firm, hard buttocks. Somehow, his hand had ended up on the sharp strong bone of Altaїr's hip.

"Watch your step," Malik snarled, feeling his face flush. He dropped his hand from Altaїr's hip as though burnt, and pushed away from him. Oh, God. What if Altaїr had noticed his erection? He would die of shame.

Daoud gave them both a puzzled frown. Face flaming, Malik muttered the passphrase, and with the slightest flicker of his fingers, signalled for them both to follow him into the cloaking chaos of the market.

All that afternoon, at random intervals, Malik recalled his cock pressing hard against the cleft of Altaїr's ass, and shuddered with shame and desire as one.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Assassin's Creed KinkMeme: http://asscreedkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/856.html?thread=5536344#cmt5536344


End file.
